GHOST
by sirscreen
Summary: BACK FROM THE DEAD! Sequel to Family Friend. As Shaw and her team close on those after Kate, Kate learns the secrets behind Castle's Spec Ops past. CASKETT
1. Explenation

**Okay, the reason I had deleted this story in the first place that the football season had started and my coaches, being my coaches, had taken to being slave drivers from Hell, and we the players, being Norconians, had taken to not needing that for we give our all. I have however, finally worked out a system.**

** Expect an update every Sunday. Saturday is reserved for **_**KT**_**.**


	2. Get some sleep, Castle

**Castle's Basement...**

Shaw collapsed into one of the chairs, spent and exhausted from her night of searching the rooftops.

"Find anything?" Castle asked in desperation.

She shook her head, "Nope, he was gone when we got there. We'll do a more thorough search in a few hours, after we get some sleep."

That didn't work for Castle. He was pulling out all stops to try and find out why people were still after him and Beckett. He had even put a call in to his old commander, Lefty. He hadn't answered.

Why, oh why did his Pararescue training have to kick in now? He trained to be alert and ready for days. During training, he even put Tabasco sauce from their rations into his eyes to stay awake. Now he didn't need it.

"Castle," Shaw said, "Take my advice. Get some sleep."


	3. Remember the past

**Sorry to not update in a while. I had writers block.**

Castle took Shaw's advice. He collapsed on one of the chairs, and fell asleep.

_"Ricky, did you shuffle that deck?" Staff Sergeant Donny Hues complained, throwing down his losing hand._

_ "I did, Donny, I did," I joked._

_ "Alright, I'm out," Staff Sergeant Billy McKensi stood up from the table, "I don't wanna lose anmore money."_

_ "Ah, just me, Donny, Max, and Terrence," I said as I collected the cards and began to shuffle, "Don't worry, I'm sure you will win this time."_

_ Master Sergeant Taylor said, without looking up from his book, "Ricky, just as long as their wives don't complain about you taking their money. Then they complain to _me_."_

_ "Yes, Master Sergeant," I said. Taylor was the Flight Commander, even if he wasn't an officer. Officers who were also members of the elite Pararescue Jumpers were a rarity. This resulted those few being given positions well above their paygrade. For example, the Squadron Commander is a Captain, not a Lieutenant Colonal, like it is in conventional Squadrons. Because of this, Taylor was the Old Man when were deployed._

_ We played a few more hands when someone shouted, "_Room, ten-hutt!"

_We snapped to attention, and all was still till we heard, "As you were."_

_ I recognised that voice, "Alex!"_

Castle jerked awake, blinking back memories of his best friend.

**In the loft...**

_"EVERY STEP, WORD, EVERY FUCKING MILESTONE IN HER LIFE BECAUSE I PROTECT THE PEOPLE I LOVE! SO DON'T YOU DARE, EVER DARE THINK I DON'T CARE!"_

Jon's word's still rang in her ears. Kate rubbed her face and popped open the beer bottle. She only got one sip before Alexis took it from her hands.

"It's six in the morning, Kate," she admonished.

"Don't you have school?" Kate asked.

"Saturday," Alexis reminded her, turning around to pour the beer away. Kate's eye caught on the object clipped to her jeans.

"Hey," she said, "Where'd you get that?"

Alexis looked at the pocket knife she was pointing at. It was the one Trev had given her, "Trev gave it to me," she said, "Why?"

"Can I see it?" Kate asked. Alexis nodded and handed her the knife. Kate ran her hands over it, remembering how Jon got it.

_I remember being bored. The Trevodurs where an outdoors family. They often went on camping trips, especially in the summer. Today, they were going to Whitney Portals, a collection of ponds and streams on Mt Whitney. A good five hour drive. They all had their camping equipment. But I didn't. Which was why were in Bass Pro Shop. Mom and Dad where on a second honeymoon. So, I got stuck with the Trevodurs for the next week and a half._

_ They weren't sparing any expense on me. They were getting me "outdoor clothes" (Apparently, jeans and hoodies weren't fit for the forest), a new fishing rod, my own fishing vest, sleeping bag, bug spray, toiletries, etc._

_ Suddenly, Mr Tevodur slapped his head, "Dang! We forgot to get you a knife!"_

_ "Knife?" I asked, "I don't need a knife."_

_ Jon rolled his eyes, "Have you ever been in the mountains? Trust me, you're gonna need a new knife."_

_ "But-"_

_ "New York, _you're gonna need a knife_," I hate that nickname. He says it with such disdane, as if New Yorkers were idiots._

_ "But knives are dangerous!" I argued._

_ "Only if you don't now how to use it," Jon argued back. We glared at each other. Out of all the Trevodurs, me and Jon got along the least. Sam and me, we tolerated eachother. Maggs and me were good friends. Jon and me... we were constantly at eachother's throats._

_ "Helloooo?" Mr Trevodur said, "Since she doesn't know how to use a knife, Jon, show her," he handed us both pocket a pocket knife, mine black and his blue._

_ "Swap?" I offered. He nodded._

Kate smiled at the memory. Jon had indeed taught her how to use a knife. Not just survival, but also knife fighting. He learned from his grandfather, as did all the Trevodurs. But Jon was the best. Both Jon and Mikal Trevodur had bee great soldiers. They even looked alike.

Jon had done everything he could to benefit those he loved. He worked two jobs, to instill in both his older brother and younger sister the importance of family. He had given his life to the protection of his country. And he had given this girl, this smart, wonderful young woman, the only relic he had of happier times. For whatever reason he had, Kate had no doubt that he knew what he was doing.

"Alexis, do you know how to use this?"

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	4. Reinforcements

**Sorry for not updating in a while. Now that I finished my NCIS story, this one shall be my prime focus.**

Specialist Billy "Dog" Wolf picked up his bag in the baggage claim. To an outside observer, he was your typical tourist, if one that is fit as hell. At just over 6'2'' and 220 pounds, he drew no attention. His beard was clipped, making it look more like five o'clock shadow than anything else. His polo shirt was white with blue shoulders, and his khaki cargo pants were clean. His sandy blond hair was mid-length. Long enough not to scream "soldier" yet short enough not to get in the way of anything.

Other than his suitcase, which was stocked with toiletries and extra clothes, just like any other tourist, he had a carry on bag in the form of a laptop carrying bag slung over his shoulder. It, too, was unassuming, black canvas. He walked out of the airport just like any other tourist.

But he was not an ordinary tourist. Codenamed "Dog" mostly for his last-name, he was part of the elite, and secretive, extreme-counter-terror unit GHOST. Dog didn't know how many teams there were in the unit. He didn't who truly was in charge. All he knew about the leadership was that he was led in the field by Captain Stikes, Codename Sty. Second-in-command was Chief Master Sergeant Taylor, codenamed "Lefty".

The unit was multi-service. He was being sent to support Lefty in a mission. With him would be their demolitions expert, Marine Staff Sergeant Jane "Sis" McDouglas, who had near-magical abilities when it came to explosives. She claimed to be able to tell the mood someone was in when they made a bomb just by looking at it. The other one was Army Delta Sergeant Jeffery "Tiny" Smalls, misnamed from birth. At over 6'8'', and weighing over 290 pounds, he was easily the largest man Dog had ever seen. He had a bad attitude to match. Dog himself was from the Rangers, a trained sniper, though no-where near as good as Lefty. Dog and Lefty were a pair, Sniper and Spotter.

Dog walked into the parking lot and found a black van that all but screamed "fed". He rolled his eyes. There had to be a better way to equip. he banged on the back door twice, waited, then three more times. Password complete, Sis opened the door from the inside.

Inside was a small armory and tech center. The other two who occupied it sat in chairs, way too small for them. One was a women, average height with blazing red hair and freckles sprayed across her face. The other was a hulking African-American who wore a ever-present scowl. It is widely believed Tiny never even smiled at his own mother.

Sis handed him his sidearm, a Kimber Custom TLE. Tiny grunted, "What has Lefty gotten himself into?"

"Do you never see the bright side?" Sis asked. Tiny gave a grunt #5, a "Never". She replied "I find that... never mind. I _don't _find that hard to believe."

"Made contact yet?" Dog asked Sis. She had a game of baiting everyone around her till they snapped. It made first impressions horrible. After that, though, she generally developed a brother-sister bond with them thus her codename.

"I tried. Pizza Hut doesn't deliver to vans," she said sadly. Dog glared at her. It was at these times he couldn't tell whether she was serious or joking. She noted it and finished, "Lefty placed his phone on silent again."

Dog slapped his forehead.. Lefty had a tendency to make all the forms of communication to him on silent. It made him an expert at infiltration. However, once he had picked a spot and could communicate freely... he had a tendency to forget.

"Where did he take the shot?" Dog asked.

"425 Broome Street in SoHo," Sis answered, "You're the sniper. Should we start there?"

"Lefty is a graduate of the Marine's Scout Sniper Course. Scout Snipers usually maintain a minimum distance from the area they took their shots. That way, if pressed, they can easily escape or return to their shooting position. Six block radius. I'll bet he is within a six block radius."

"I drive," Tiny called. He always drove the van. He was worse than Mr T in _The A-Team_.

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	5. Brothersinarms

"Well, all I can say is that it is _good _to be back in the precinct," Beckett said.

"Yeah, all they found was a small camera overlook the bullpen," Ryan pointed out as Beckett sat in her chair.

The detective scowled, "Someone messed up my seat. Castle!"

"I swear, I'm innocent!" the author argued.

Beckett rolled her eyes and pulled the lever. A loud _clang _sounded from under the chair. She fell back, chair failing beneath her. The boys watched in part horror and amusement. She got up and cursed, "_Damn it, Jon!"_

"Who's Jon?" Esposito asked.

"He goes by Trev, now," Castle explained. Their faces morphed into understanding. They, too had been briefed, along with the commissioner and the captain. And that is about as far as it went.

"It was his favorite joke," Kate still wore her scowl, "Not only does he send us on a wild goose chase, now he messes with my chair!" is nothing sacred?

* * *

Meanwhile, the boys were struggling to hold back their laughter.

Meanwhile, Shaw was on the roof of a apartment building, across the street and three down from Castle's loft. Computerized ballistics showed that the shot came from here. However, they found no brass, no GSR, no physical evidence from the scene.

"Agent Shaw," one of the techs said, "Look at this," he pointed to two roundish indentations in the gravel.

"That's where he kneeled down." she said.

"But," he stood up and walked a few meters to the left, "If I kneel down like he did," he did so and stood up, leaving two slightly different indentations in the gravel, "They are much sharper."

"He used a tarp," Shaw theorized, "It explains how there is no evidence. He took it all with him," she spied the street, seeing a traffic camera, "We got this guy. Get me that feed from the traffic camera. We see anyone come out with a tarp, we got our man."

* * *

The black van stopped on the corner. Dog opened the back door and let a hobo carrying a blue waterproof tarp rolled up to conceal a M24 Sniper Weapons System. Lefty climbed into the vehicle, causing Tiny to wrinkle his nose.

"You stink," he commented.

"Shut up and drive," Lefty ordered. Scowling, the large man did so.

Dog asked, "What's going on?"

"The psycho was assigned to protect this woman," he explained, "from a hitman they were trying to capture. They captured the guy, but contract killers are still after her."

"So?" Sis asked, "Not our job. We're counter-terror."

"Ah, but this woman is a police officer, and is partnered with a consultant. Now the consultant is wanted dead."

"So? Not our problem," Dog argued.

"And I used to serve with that consultant," Lefty finished. The rest were silent. They had long ago learned the value of brothers-in-arms. If any had a buddy in danger, they each would pull all stops to help them.

"What's his name?" Sis asked, pulling out her computer.

"His name now is Richard Castle," Lefty said, "Used to serve in the Pararescue as Richard Amster."

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	6. Memories

**It is my duty as a Pararescueman to save life and to aid the injured. I will be prepared at all times to perform my assigned duties quickly and efficiently, placing these duties before personal desires and comforts. These things I do, "That Others May Live.". **

** -Pararescue Creed**

"Agent Shaw, look at this," Avery said, "I've been going through security footage of the airports, looking for anyone with military sniper training. I found six guys who fit the bill."

He handed her a stack of files, most of them Army and Marine snipers, three retired. Those left were Chief Master Sergeant James Taylor, Specialist Billy Wolfe, and Sergeant Tom Snider.

"Now, I did some further research into their service, and look what I found" He opened Taylor's file to the Deployment History section. He pointed to a particular deployment to Bosnia.

563rd Rescue Group, 58th Rescue Squadron, Bravo Flight, Section A.

Members: Ssgt. Geuterez, Ricardo.

Ssgt Harrison, William

**Amn Amster, Richard.**

"Castle."

* * *

"Listen, Castle, I need everything you have on Taylor," Shaw said.

"Look, what I can give you is probably outdated," He protested, "Yes, Taylor was my Flight Commander, and yes, he did save my bacon in Bosnia, but I haven't had any contact with him since '98. what makes you think I can help you?"

"I'm a profiler, Castle," Shaw reminded him, "Mannerisms, habits, anything, come on!"

_Master Sergeant Taylor said, without looking up from his book, "Ricky, just as long as their wives don't complain about you taking their money. Then they complain to _me_."_

_ The book was Oedipus Rex._

"He liked Shakespeare," Castle said, "Um, he cross-trained with the Marines to be a sniper. He was our scout. He was supposed to see the enemy and give us early warning. He was rumored to have cross-trained with Delta, but we never confirmed it. I heard he had a friend in the Marines who helped him secure the slot in the Scout/Sniper Course."

"Anything else?" Shaw asked, taking copious notes.

"Umm, no, that's all I got right now."

"Okay," Shaw sighed. She wouldn't be able to get much more out of him if she pressed him. The most that would happen is that he would look funny as he tried to concentrate. Later, however, it would come back to him.

* * *

Castle couldn't help but flash back to Bosnia.

_"Alex!" I greeted, bro hugging my best friend and brother-in-law._

_ "Ricky," the pilot, "It's good to see you. Hey, have you lost weight?" it was his favorite joke. Being a PJ, I was fit as hell._

_ "So, what have you been doing since you were certified?" I asked._

_ "Been here, mostly. I took some leave to visit Meredith and Alexis, but I'm back on rotation now," he said._

_ "So, what can us humble PJ's do for the vaunted pilot?" I asked._

_ "I make it a point to get to know the guys who might save my bacon one day," Alex explained._

_**Four hours later...**_

___Alex had long since left. But now, we were put on high alert._

_ Unidentified forces had been spotted._

_ We were in a large briefing room with all other USSOCOM forces on base. SEALs, Force Recon, Special Forces, and of course, Pararescue and Combat Controlers._

_ "We estimate anywhere from five hundred to two thousand unidentified personnel in this region. Until we know more, we follow standard rules of engagement. All com-"_

_ BERM! BERM!_

_ "_PARARESCUEMEN TO STATIONS! PARARESCEMEN TO STATIONS!"

_ It was our song._

Castle pinched his arm hard, bringing himself out of the memories.

He left Bosnia behind him long ago.


	7. Sty and Jules

** Sorry for not updating. Inspiration has only just struck me.**

** Base FORGOTTEN HOPE**

"Okay, so you went off on your own, without informing me, and, this is the worse of all, _did a favor for the psycho?"_ Captain Steven "Sty" Stikes was more angry at that one fact, not against regs, than the multiple regs violations.

The petite, fragile looking Petty Officer currently under the angry Marine's gaze wasn't fazed, "Come on, Sty, I just took pictures. And what about that 'training mission' to Six Flags last year?" Petty Officer 3rd Class Julia "Jules" Whitmore pointed out.

"I was cleared for that," Sty countered, "You still got that pink elephant?"

She looked hurt, "Why would I ever throw away Mr Snuggles?"

"You named him Mr Snuggles?"

"Well, actually he's a she."

"How- Never mind," Sty pinched the bridge of his nose. It was times like these that he felt like a high school principle. Normally, it was he and Jules that got on the best, as she had the least problems. However, you'd expect the only women to receive SEAL Training, courtesy of the Naval Special Warfare Development Group (SEAL Team 6), to be a complete and utter badass. Not so. He visited her house once (_no _fraternization happened, despite what the rest of the team may tell you), and her bed looked like a six year old's, complete with an army of colorful stuffed animals. And the only reason he knew that was because he insisted on a tour after seeing her pony and unicorn living room.

She leaned foreward and whispered, "I call her Mr Snuggles because it's so nice to snuggle with her when I'm... _done."_

Sty just banged his head on the metal table between them, partly out exasperation, and partly to keep professional thoughts.

Jules however, was having fun. Not only had she gotten a chocolate bar earlier for cooperating, but now she was onto her favorite sport: over the top flirting. And what was funny was Lefty had told her stories about how much of a player he was in high school.

"Now, I gotta ask, why?" Sty said.

"Cause he wanted pictures of his daughter," she said, "Come on, he just found out. Are you telling me _you _wouldn't do the same thing?"

"Actually, I'm wondering what kind of father the psycho would have been if he didn't fake his death and leave the Corps."

"Oh! Tell me! You know him better than I do!" Jules begged.

"I'm imagining her as a teenager training to be a doctor... and him firing live rounds over her head as she patches up a wound on a dummy."

"Tough love kinda guy?"

"Very tough love."

"Eesh."

* * *

"Agent Shaw, we lost them around 10th and Lexington."

"Keep looking. I want every traffic camera being watched for that van," Shaw ordered, "Avery, how are we doing tracking that assassin?"

"Damon Alexander," he pulled up a file on the screen, "Works as a stock broker for himself. Owns a small house in Maimi. No prior arrest records."

"How can that be," she asked, "We got murder in the streets. Bystanders caught in the crossfire."

"Like a war," Avery guessed.

"No," Shaw shook her head, "Every war we know of is very overt, from gang war to a world war. These guys hide in the shadows. They work to remain secret."

"Like special forces?"

"No, Special Forces was originally designed to be a force multiplier. They would be almost useless without conventional forces. No, these guys are more terrorist than soldier."

"Or," Avery said, "Counter-Terror."

* * *

_Bosnia..._

_ Alex tried damned hard. He banked his fighter left. The explosions of the anti-air fire still followed him. He had to get back to the base. He took those pictures of the Russian Spetsnaz down below. Almost two companies worth. It would cause a serious problem for the forces on the ground._

_ Unfortunately, the bandwidth of the data stream wasn't big enough to broadcast a complete picture. They would need him to fly back with the DSM._

_ "Come on, Come on," he urged his plane. Almost past them, almost past them..._

Boom!

_His plane spun out of control. He struggled, and barely pulled the ejection lever._

_ The last thing he saw in the plane was the poloroid of him, Ricky and his five months pregnant sister._

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	8. I'm not strong enough

**I promised it, and now I'm delivering. Just a little Caskett scene.**

_ "Please tell me we have something,"_

"Umm, I slept with Alexa Jenkins in Junior Year?" Lefty tried hopelessly.

_"WHAT?" _Sty face morphed from business to anger, _"Dude! You knew I liked- argh, nevermind! We have nothing?"_

"Trust me dude, you didn't miss much," Lefty assured him, "And unfortunately, yes, we have nothing. Zip, zilch, nada."

_"Well, then what do we have?" _Sty asked.

Suddenly, they heard someone go, _"THIS IS THE FBI. COME OUT OF THE VAN WITH YOUR HANDS UP."_

"A big steaming pile of shit in our mouths."

* * *

"Jules, pack up," Sty said.

"New York?"

"New York, 12th Precinct."

* * *

Castle stared through the glass, looking through at the "suspect". He may have aged by about fifteen years, but it was still the same man who led them all those years ago.

_One of the things you learn in Jump School is to knot the laces on your boots. If you don't, then they get yanked off of you when you jump out of the plane._

_ It gives you an idea of how fast you're going through the air. Especially in a HALO jump._

_ Touching down and regrouping wasn't the problem. The problem was finding the pilot. It could take days, and we would not stop until we found him._

_ The section, or in army terms squad, silently stalked through the forest, me second from the front. It was almost pitch black. The only way we could see were the night vision monoculars. The IR lasers on our rifles enabled us to actually aim with the NV devices on._

_ I heard a small _click.

"Mine-field!"

* * *

Beckett was glanced at Castle, her silent alarm going off at the sight of him pinching the bridge of his nose like he had a migraine, a pained look on his face.

"Castle," she said. He snapped out of it, blinking like some just flashed a camera. He sighed.

"During Pararescue Training, the cadre leader in my element was this man," he pointed at the man in the interrogation room, "We grew to hate his guts, yet love him like a father. We trusted him and were weary of him. After, we were scattered throughout the Pararescue Flights, and I got the lucky draw of having him be my Flight Commander. Saved my life, on my first and last mission."

"Medical Discharge," she remembered.

"Yep," his eyes darkened, "I'd give anything, to go back to the woods again that night, and do it differently."

"Why? What happened?"

"Remember... when you told me about your mother?"

"Yes."

"I'm not strong enough to reveal something of that magnitude."

* * *

**Base FORGOTTEN HOPE**

"Pack your bags," Sty ordered, "Where's the Psycho? He got us into this mess."

"Um, I don't know. What's going on?" Jules asked as she picked up the prepacked carry-on in her locker. It kinda freaked her out that this building had co-ed changing facilities. Then she caught Sty staring her one time... when her shirt was off. That alone boosted her confidence so that she was all for it.

"Lefty and the rest just got picked up by the Feds," he grabbed his bag and sat phone, fast-walking out the door and into the hallway, Jules jogging just to keep up with his longer legs.

"And why do you want our part-time interrogator with us?"

"That shit-head got us into this with his botched mission, he can help us get out of it," he said, dialing on his sat phone, requesting an immediate flight to New York.

Jules shrugged and flipped open her own phone. Working as an ONI field agent had given her friends in high places. Maybe she would be able to get a hold of the highly secretive Trev.

Not that she had high hopes.

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	9. Are they sleeping together?

"Mine-Field!"

_I was slammed into the ground, feeling rather than hearing as a old Soviet anti-personel mine exploded where I was only a moment ago. I looked up to see Master Sergeant Taylor above me._

_ "Thanks, Sarge," I gasped getting up._

_ "If you aren't dead, get up!" Taylor ordered, "Those mines will attract a lot of unwelcome company, so if we don't haul ass, we'll learn quick the kind of hurt these bastards will lay down."_

_ Thankfully, no one was hurt. But we all hauled ass into the forest, keeping together as a unit, but as silent as ghosts._

_ Little did we know that in less than six hours, hell would break loose._

**Beckett**

I saw Castle pinching the bridge of his nose again. Yeah, I was worried. It didn't take a genius to see that this was bringing up bad memories for him. He's my partner. I'm supposed to worry about him.

Right?

"Hey," he said, sitting down in his usual seat.

"Hey," I answered, looking at paperwork, "Taylor and the rest still aren't talking. Now... uh..."

It worked. He blinked and smiled, "Your looking for some harebrained, illogical theory form me, aren't you?"

"Well... do you?"

He sighed, "He could have moved to a CIA SOG team and is here to track all the assassins that seem to have descended upon our fair city," he chuckled at his own wild idea. I did to.

Then his smile dropped, and he looked like he was having an epiphany, "I- ergh! I'm such an idiot! Where's agent Shaw?"

"The war room," I pointed toward it, "What-"

I didn't get the rest out. Castle had already left his seat and was huryying toward the war room. He stopped suddenly and beckoned toward me to follow.

**Castle**

How could I have been so stupid? I felt like kicking myself!

"Agent Shaw!" I called, "I have more information!"

"Finally," she sighed, "What is it?"

"GHOST," I said, "All capitalized. Agent Grayson, a friend of mine in the CIA, told me rumors about an ultra-secret anti-terror team known as GHOST. He said that they were drawn from members of SOCOM, and completely autonomous, able to function separately without support or help."

"Can you trust this Grayson?" Shaw asked.

"I think he's trustworthy," Beckett said.

"More importantly, how do we get the identities of the other three in lock-up if they are ultra-secret?" Shaw asked.

I scrunched my face, concentrated hard, and... "I got nothing. You?"

"Ditto," Beckett sighed.

"Yo, Beckett," Esposito, "Look what we found on Castle's old unit website," he handed her a printed out picture

"Oh, look at you," she said, huge smile on her face, "All shiny and neat in his uniform." and there I was, in my Class-As, red beret resting proudly upon my head. It was taken by my mother on the day I graduated from two years in hell.

Wait a minute... "Unit pictures," I gently took the picture, "Of course! Units post pictures of their training and personell online. If you match the photos we took of the guys-"

"And girl," Esposito added.

"And girl in lockup against unit photos, we might get lucky." I finished.

"Do you know how many units are in the military?" Shaw asked.

"Only a few are in SOCOM," I returned smugly.

**A few hours latter...**

"Come on, can't they give us some guard who's not married or in a serious relationship?" Sis whined.

"We all know that you have an urge to flirt with any available guy, Sis," Dog complained from the next cell over, "What we don't know is why."

"Flirting is fun, it's like foreplay," she said, "Gets you aroused. Don't you like being aroused."

"Only when I'm actually going to get some," Dog grumbled.

"Will you two shut up!" Tiny growled, "You're like my children! Jesus!"

Dog fell off of the bench he had been laying on, "You have kids?"

"What are there names, what are there names!" Sis asked, bouncing with excitement, "And how come you didn't tell me I was an aunt?"

Lefty looked up from the copy of Shakespearean poetry that the guard had been kind enough to loan him, "He had three. James, Daniel, and Jessica."

The three blinked. Of course the all knowing team sergeant would know that. Then Dog asked, "Aren't you black?"

Tiny glared at him and looked like he was about to kill the younger, and smaller, man. Dog hastily said, "I mean, shouldn't they have black names, like, I don't know, Shakikwa, Wikipedia, or- I'll shut up now."

"Smart move, Dumbass," Lefty scolded.

"They took away my van," Tiny grumbled.

"Yeah, they sure did Mr T," everyone stared at him, "Lord have mercy, none of you had ever seen the A-Team?"

"I _was _the A-Team!" Tiny replied, referring to his former career as Special Forces.

Lefty put his face in his hand, "Oh God, I'm getting _old_."

"There there," Sis tried to be as mockingly comforting as she could from a cell away.

They were interrupted by the Redhead Fed, the hot cop, and Lefty's old flightmate entering the lockup area, along with a Hispanic cop that instantly put a smile on Sis's face.

"You missed it," Lefty said, "Dog managed not only managed to look like a racist idiot, he also managed to do so with a while _believing _himself half intelligent. Sound familiar, Little Ricky?"

The hot cop turned to Castle, "_Little Ricky?"_

"I was the newbie on the team," he defended, "And secondly, 'Dog' that was _my _job!"

"Little Ricky," Beckett repeated, liking how it rolled off her tongue.

"You do realize you've just doomed me to a lifetime of torment, Taylor."

"Sorry kid."

"You know, it's almost as good as '_Kitten_'." this was turning into a very good day for Beckett.

Now Lefty fell off of the bench, "_'Kitten'?"_

"It's the pet name his first ex-wife gave him," Beckett explained.

Sis asked Esposito and Shaw, who were hanging back and enjoying the show, "Are they always like this?"

"Sometimes worse, sometimes better," Esposito answered.

"They have a better relationship than some old couples I know," Shaw said.

"Are they sleeping together?"

"Not yet."

**And here is where my muse has deserted me. Please Review! I beg thee!**


	10. Agreement

**I AM ****SO SORRY FOR NEGLECTING THIS STORY! SOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSO !**

** Beckett**

"Chief Master Sergeant James Taylor, USAF," the entire team was crammed into the breakroom as I read their identities from a file, "Of Scarsburough, Virginia. You enlisted in the Air Force in 1987 right out of high school, MOS as 4JOX1-"

The man _groaned_, "It's 4-_Juliet-Zero-X-ray-_1!"

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes, ignoring the indignant glares from the Chief "MOS now is 1T-" I again rolled my eyes at their indignant glares, "Fine, 1-_Tango-_ 2-_X-ray-_1, Pararescue."

I moved onto the next one, "Staff Sergeant Jeffery Smalls," Yeah, _huge_ misnamer, "Of Detroit, Michigan. Served in the 1st Cavalry Division and later 5th Special Forces Group. Two tours in Afghanistan and three in Iraq. You've been in the army for over twenty years and still only a Staff Sergeant."

"He don't play politics well," The youngest of them replied.

"And you are Specialist William," he flinched a bit, definitely a Billy, "Wolfe, US Army, of Coronado, California. Again, joined right outta high school in 2008. Aren't you a little young to be rolling with this crowd?"

"I'm an over acheiver," he remarked cheekily. I'll remember that later.

The next one, "Staff Sergeant Jane McDouglas, USMC, of Golosberg, Montana," the rest of them stared at her. She looked mortified. Country Girl don't wanna be known as a redneck, huh? "One of the few female EOD techs in the Marines, but official MOS is 2300, Basic Ammunition and Explosive Ordinance Disposal, which means no special duty pay."

She shrugged, "You meet such great guys in combat."

Wolfe quipped, "By great guys you mean horny guys."

"Those to."

I'm glad I wouldn't allow Castle to be in here, "Now, the way I see, interfering with police investigations, murder, evading arrest, lowest you can hope for is life. But, tell what you know regarding all these assassins that have descended on my city."

They looked at each other, looking... indecisive, I guess.

"We... don't really know anything, really," Wolfe said.

"A... I wouldn't call him 'friend' but definitely wouldn't want him as an enemy," McDouglas explained, "He call on... a friend of ours and asked for a favor."

"Our CO told us to find our kinda-friend and see what he's up to," Chief told us, "I learned that he was tracking an assassin named-"

"Jason Bourne?" I said. I mentally cursed Jon for all of this trouble, "Is this kinda-friend named Jon Trevodur?"

"You know him?"

"Since he was _four,_" all these years and he still makes my life miserable.

They all blinked. Chief asked, "So... he _wasn't _hatched?"

**Sty**

I was carefully pressing thermite putty into the floor when the door opened and the red-headed FBI chick glared at me.

I blinked and said, "This is awkward."

I heard Lefty's voice say, "Agent Shaw, Captain Steven Stikes. Sty, Special Agent Jordan Shaw of the FBI."

"We know who you are, and what you're doing," Shaw said.

"They know?"

"They know everything," Lefty confirmed.

"Everything?"

"Yup."

"Damn."

"Definitely," Lefty agreed.

I pulled out my cell and dialed a familiar number, "Jules, I got news. And you're not gonna like it..."

**Bosnia**

_"Oh, shit," it was never a good thing when the flight commander cursed, "_All sections, be advised, hostile personnel have been located in Grid 16-5. recommend covert infiltration."

_What he didn't say was that it looked like all of the Spetsnaz in Bosnia were currently located in our one area. And for flavor, they had BTRs, which is a Russian form of the Armored Personnel Carrier. Oh, and as an added bonus, those vehicles have chainguns on them._

_ Three simple words come to mind._

_ We._

_ Are._

_ Fucked._


End file.
